


Enchanted

by halfsweet



Series: Parallel AU [16]
Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sexual Confusion, Teen Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 21:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13866453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfsweet/pseuds/halfsweet
Summary: The first time he met Pete Wentz was also the first time he met Patrick Stump. He had no idea what to expect when he met two quarters of Fall Out Boy after Pete messaged him and the rest of Panic about wanting to check them out.He certainly didn't expect to meet his soulmate.





	Enchanted

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by Taylor Swift's Enchanted :)
> 
> enjoy!

The first time he met Pete Wentz was also the first time he met Patrick Stump. He had no idea what to expect when he met two quarters of Fall Out Boy after Pete messaged him and the rest of Panic about wanting to check them out.

He certainly didn't expect to meet his soulmate.

They were nervously pacing and fumbling with their equipment, and Brent even looked agitated. If anyone were to see them right at that moment, they would have thought that they were awaiting their punishment.

Hell, even when they were called to the principal's office, it still wasn't as nerve-wracking as meeting Pete Wentz.

He looked up from his guitar when the door to their rented storage basement pushed open, and everyone held their breaths.

Pete peeked his head in with a grin. “So, is this the so called band who claimed to be better than Fall Out Boy?”

He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, awestruck that _the_ Pete Wentz was here. Talking to them.

“I, uh—” Ryan cleared his throat as he attempted to speak on behalf of the band because none of them seemed to get their brains working. “I—”

Then, Pete laughed before strolling inside, stretching himself comfortably on the couch as he glanced around the room. “So, what song are you guys going to sing before you can convince me that you're actually better than us?”

They're sharing glances between each other. They had planned to sing a medley cover of The Beatles, Blink-182 and end it with one of Fall Out Boy’s songs.

He stepped up to the front. “We, uh, we're going to do a medley.”

“Cool, cool.” Pete nodded, looking intrigued before he leaned back on the couch. “Introduce yourselves first. Like, I know you're Ryan,” Pete pointed to Ryan, then to him, “and you're—”

Before Pete could say his name, another person walked in, and if he was awestruck before, then he was at a loss for words when in all glory, _Patrick Stump_ appeared right before his very own eyes.

“Pete.” Patrick scowled, not noticing them just yet as he lifted his hat off to run his fingers through his hair. “Did you really have to leave me to— oh.”

Patrick stopped in the middle of his sentence when he turned his head to them, his eyes widening with surprise as a small, embarrassing flush made its way on his face.

He had never seen such a sight in his life.

“I'm sorry, I didn't see—” Patrick fumbled with his words, Pete snickering somewhere in the background, and held his hand out for a handshake. “I'm, um, Patrick.”

“Brendon.” He grasped Patrick's hand before Ryan could, and he ignored the eye roll that Ryan not so subtly gave him. “It's—” mesmerizing, amazing, _enchanting_ , “—really nice to meet you.”

Patrick smiled, his eyes crinkling around the corner, and he just _knew_ he had to get to know Patrick better.

“It's nice to meet you too, Brendon.”

-

“I think we did well.” Spencer spoke up, smiling with relief after Pete and Patrick had left. After they had gotten back to Ryan's place.

Brent made a small noise of grunt, not saying anything as he made his way to the kitchen, and Ryan nudged him on the side, regarding with him a curious raise of his eyebrows.

“What was that?”

He blinked. “What was what?”

“When Patrick came in. You were all—” Ryan frowned and made a small gesture with his hand.

Heat rushed up to his face, and he was quick to deny. “No, I wasn't.”

“Yes, you were.” Ryan countered.

“No, I wasn't.”

Ryan opened his mouth, but Spencer's voice sounded in the room. “No, you weren't what?”

“Nothing.” He said before Ryan could say anything. “Nothing. It's just Ryan being Ryan again. Annoying.”

Ryan snorted and threw a pillow in his face, and Spencer went to the kitchen to possibly raid through the fridge.

Even though the subject was already dropped, he just couldn't get Patrick's smile out of his mind.

-

The next time he met Patrick was when Pete took them to the studio to let them know how things would be after they were signed to his label.

“So this is where we do our recording and mixing.” Pete explained before he opened the door to a room. “It’s mostly—”

Pete's words failed to reach his ears, because when Pete opened the door, the sound of a strumming guitar and a soft hum filled his ears, up to his brain and down to his heart, lighting up his every inch of his nerves.

He tried to peek inside, above Pete's shoulder, and his stomach just flipped in all directions, up and down and side to side.

Patrick was sitting on one of the couches, looking like he's in his own little world with a guitar in his lap and sheets of papers, possibly lyrics, near him.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, Rick.” Pete apologized, making Patrick look up from his guitar. “Didn’t realize you're in here. I was just about to show the kids the recording room.”

Patrick smiled the same smile the first time they met. “It's fine. I can go to a different room.”

He wanted Patrick to stay, though, join them on their little tour. But Pete's answer disheartened him.

“No, it's okay. We can come back later.” Pete assured him. “See you later, Rick.”

Patrick waved them with a smile just as Pete closed the door and continued the tour. They had already begun to walk, but he stayed behind, lingering by the door that separated him and Patrick.

There's… there's no harm in talking to Patrick, right? Patrick wouldn't mind, right?

He placed his hand on the knob and took a deep breath. Before he could turn the knob, Spencer called his name. He immediately brought his hand back down to his side and tried to fight the blush that was making its way on his face.

Spencer raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

“Uh.” He fidgeted, trying to find a good enough excuse that wouldn’t arouse any suspicion from Spencer. “Talking to you?”

Spencer fixed him a stare, and he broke out into sweats. Spencer didn’t notice anything, right? He didn’t suspect anything, right?

“You’re acting weird.” Spencer stated, his tone tinged with suspicion.

He laughed nervously as he stepped away from the door and towards his friend. “Since when am I _not_ weird?”

Before Spencer could say anything, he slung his arm around Spencer’s shoulders and began walking, pulling him along. Spencer seemed to have drop the matter, thankfully. Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t know how he could explain himself.

He tilted his head back slightly, looking over his shoulder. The door was still closed. Patrick was still in the room. All alone.

He let out a sigh and focused back to the front.

_So close._

-

They had been hanging out at the studio for a few times. They met Joe and Andy and they were _still_ starstruck that they got to meet the _entire_ Fall Out Boy in one room.

Hell, he’s still starstruck that he met _Patrick Stump._

It was lunch time, and Pete was ordering pizza for everyone. While everyone else was busy trying to agree on two toppings, he saw Patrick standing up and sneaking out the door. Curious, he followed him out and hoped that no one noticed.

Patrick went into the pantry, taking out a cup of instant noodles and ripping its lid off before heating the water. When Patrick turned around, he jumped slightly in surprise. “Brendon. I— I didn’t see you there.”

He smiled, sheepish. “Sorry. I, uh— I was wondering what you were doing.”

“I’m not really in the mood for pizza, I guess.” Patrick chuckled as he pulled out a chair to sit down on. Then, he gestured to an empty chair in front of him. “You wanna join me?”

He nodded without hesitation. Who was he to deny an invitation from Patrick?

He skipped to the table with a badly-contained gleeful expression on his face. “You sure you’re not in the mood for pizza? I mean, it’s _pizza._ ”

An amused smile grazed Patrick’s face as he arched an eyebrow. “You’re like a mini-Pete, you know that? No wonder he took an interest in your band.”

“Hey, you gotta give me more credit than that.” He pouted, though his stomach was beginning to fill with fluttering butterflies at the one-on-one conversation with Patrick. “I’m good-looking, too.”

“Sure you are.”

“And a good singer.”

“Okay.”

“And a good lyricist.”

“Eh.”

He groaned out loud and slouched over the table. “You are _very_ hard to please.”

“Hey.” Patrick pursed his—pink, plump, _luscious—_ lip. “I’ve been told I’m quite adorable.”

“Sure you are.”

“A decent vocalist.”

“Okay.”

“And have a pretty good taste in music.”

“Eh.” He laughed when Patrick kicked his chair. God, Patrick’s _so_ adorable he just wanted to hug the hell out of him.

“You think you’re so smart, aren’t you?” Patrick crossed his arms and huffed, his cheeks forming two perfect rounds and _please_ let him pinch them.

“Only around you.” He quipped, hoping it didn’t come out as a flirtation. Although, when Patrick’s face turned the pinkest of red, he hoped that it came out _maybe_ just a little.

It was nice that he finally got some alone time with Patrick. Their conversation went from _“How many siblings do you have?”_ to _“Have you been to this restaurant?”_. Aside from the occasional back-and-forth banter, he got to know Patrick a lot more. He got to see Patrick geeking out over his favourite album and his favourite movie.

And, most importantly, he got to hear Patrick talking and laughing and chittering with no interruption.

His face melted into adoration as Patrick continued to gush—his instant noodle forgotten and boiled water completely cooled down.

 _“Oh, oh— and it’s the_ best _album of the generation! Don’t fight me on this, okay? That guitar riff on—”_

-

Pete’s throwing a party at his place. He felt a little out of place with the other guests—the other guys also felt the same—but Jon convinced them that this was good if they wanted to expand the band’s name. It didn’t really take much to get them convinced. They immediately said yes at the mention of _free booze._

But he didn’t tell anyone that he had already agreed to come the second Patrick invited them.

The place was booming with the loud music Pete had on—so loud he couldn’t even make out the words. Ryan and Spencer and Jon and Brent had all disappeared into the crowd, and he suddenly felt small and insecure and awkward. He didn’t know anyone at the party, and he could have sworn a bunch of people were giving him side-eye glances as if they were judging him.

He ducked his hand and elbowed through the crowd to find a space where it’s less crowded. Or at least until he found one of his friends.

It’s almost weird, when he thought about it. He used to want to go to these kinds of parties—he still did—but he never would have thought that he would feel so out of it. So... so didn’t fit in. Was it because he’s still a teenager?

Sighing, he kept walking around, accepting any beverages handed to him. He had already down about two, three cups of beer when he saw Patrick standing by a wall all alone with a red solo cup in his hand.

Patrick caught his gaze and smiled, waving to him. His body buzzed, and he slinked his way to him with a grin. “Patrick, hey. What are you doing here all alone?”

“Not much of a party person.” Patrick smiled, sheepish as he scratched the back of his neck. “Where are your friends?”

“Somewhere in the crowd.” He replied after scanning left and right in the room before giving up when he couldn’t spot any one of his bandmates.

Even though they’re in a party crowded with people, it felt just like that time when he was alone with Patrick at the pantry in the studio. It felt like they were in their own world having a conversation amidst the loud music. They kept laughing and talking and drinking and drinking and talking and laughing.

Maybe he was a little tipsy. And maybe Patrick was, too.

Patrick was standing close to him. Their arms and thighs were pressed to one another, and it felt warm and amazing and when Patrick turned to him with rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes and pink smile, he leaned in without thinking and closed his eyes.

“Pete?”

He opened his eyes to see Patrick staring in question at Pete, who had just _very_ rudely interrupted their moment. He scowled. Pete didn’t even look sorry.

“Patrick.” Was all Pete said before Patrick straightened his back, a worried look plastered on his face before turning to him.

“Sorry, Brendon. I got to go. Talk to you again soon.” Patrick apologized to him and walked over to Pete. Then, they both disappeared into the crowd. He stared down at his feet, a little bit annoyed but also confused.

Pete seemed… distraught. Did something happen?

And he wasn’t going to lie, he did feel slightly jealous at how Patrick understood Pete without Pete having to say a single word.  He sighed and leaned against the wall.

Then again, they almost… _he_ almost…

But if Pete hadn’t interrupted them, would he— would _they_? Blood rushed up to his face, and he placed both his hands over his cheeks, feeling them going warm.

What a party.

-

When they get back to their place, he couldn’t get the blush nor the smile off his face, so he pretended that it was just a normal flush from drinking. He didn’t think he could keep them off until _tomorrow._

But the second Brent asked a question, his smile and blush disappeared.

“Have you seen the way Pete and Patrick are around each other? They’re gay, dude.”

Spencer sighed and rubbed his temple. “Just because they’re close with each other doesn’t mean they’re gay, Brent.”

“A bunch of people at the party saw them going into the backseat of a car. They’re definitely fucking.” Brent shrugged, nonchalant and seemingly uncaring with the words that escaped his mouth.

For some reason, Brent’s sentence made him feel hot. Like he wanted to rip someone’s head off. Brent’s, in particular.

“They’re not.” Ryan voiced up, glaring at Brent. “Pete’s got some… issues he was working on _._ They were only talking in the car.”

Brent scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. Who _talked_ in the backseat of a car at a party? And how do _you_ know they’re only talking, huh? You got a thing for Wentz?”

“We talked.” Ryan gritted his teeth. “I know Pete and I know what he’s dealing with.”

“We talked.” Brent mocked him. “That a codeword for _we fucked?_ Is that why Pete signed us in the first place?”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Jon interrupted them and placed his hands on Ryan’s and Brent’s shoulders when they both seemed to almost butt head with each other. “No more fighting. I swear, none of you are drinking any alcohol after this.”

Brent seemed to ignore him as he continued. “What’s next? Urie and Stump fucking so we can put out the next album?”

He froze when Brent directed his attention to him. He wasn’t sure what expression he had on his face, but it’s got Brent’s eyes widening in… suspicion? Surprise? _Disgust?_

“What?” Brent snorted. “You gay for him or something?”

His heart stopped.

“Brendon!”

He blinked when he heard his name being called. It took him a second to realize that Spencer was holding his arms back, and Brent was lying down on the floor, groaning and nursing his bloody nose.

“Even if you’re angry, you don’t have to _punch_ him.” Jon chided him as he kneeled down next to Brent to help him with his bleeding nose.

Wait. He punched Brent?

He’s still staring at the blood that dripped out of Brent’s nose. He wasn’t even aware that he moved. That he _punched_ Brent.

Then again, that fucker deserved it. That’s what he got for talking about Patrick like that.

“That’s it. Everyone go to your room.” Jon instructed them, and he kind of felt intimidated seeing Jon being stern like this. Jon’s a goofy guy, and _somewhat_ responsible, but he’s not strict. “I don’t want to see any of you out of bed before the sun rises.”

Spencer let go of him, quirking an eyebrow as if it’s a silent for _“We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”_ He glanced down and shuffled back into his room; the entire apartment was tense enough, and he didn’t want to get into any more trouble.

He quickly changed his clothes and lied down on his bed, arms behind his head as he stared up at the dark ceiling, Brent’s earlier words still playing in his mind.

Gay? Was he gay? What gave Brent the idea that he’s— that he’s _gay?_ For _Patrick?_

Maybe he flirted with Patrick a little, but he’s not— he’s not _gay._ And just because he felt a strong urge to _kiss_ Patrick at the party earlier didn’t mean he’s _gay._

Sure, he played and fooled around with Ryan on stage, but that’s what Pete told them to do. He said fans would love it. And it was harmless, anyway. He and Ryan were friends. He didn’t like Ryan like _that,_ and Ryan didn’t like him like _that._

...but it’s not wrong for him to like Patrick like _that,_ right?

Wait, was it a sin to have feelings for another guy?

He shook his head. It’s just admiration. Yeah, that’s probably it. He’s not gay. He’s still in awe that he’s now working together with a big band and a talented vocalist. It’s nothing big.

Besides, he’s sure that Patrick’s not gay either.

_“Have you seen the way Pete and Patrick are around each other? They’re gay, dude.”_

His chest clenched with a dull and heavy feeling.

_Please don’t be in love with someone else._

**Author's Note:**

> they've come so far :'))
> 
> comments? :)


End file.
